


A Match Made in Hell

by lysanatt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, matchmaking demon!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He said that you are so needy that it's the only way your clinginess can get something that satisfies it. He told me that you, Samantha, need a boyfriend, so he found one who was interested. And you're welcome. I truly wish I could be bothered to care much about your little problem, but no, not happening. And why is that? Oh, yes," Crowley says, before he turns up the volume and bellows into the phone, "Because my kingdom is at bloody stake here! Your moron of a brother picked the lock and let Lucifer out! I am going to kill him! Your brother is a dead demon, Sam! Dead!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Match Made in Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [絕配](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350309) by [reflux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reflux/pseuds/reflux)



> Part 4 of my advent calendar. Longer fics can be found here, drabbles are over at my [tumblr](http://lysanatt.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Oneiriad suggested Demon!Dean as a matchmaker, trying to set up Sam with my character of choice, so here is some Samifer fluff.

"He did _what_?" Sam asks, the message's impact like a punch to the gut. 

"He said that you are so needy that it's the only way your clinginess can get something that satisfies it. He told me that you, Samantha, need a boyfriend, so he found one who was interested. And you're welcome. I truly wish I could be bothered to care much about your little problem, but no, not happening. And why is that? Oh, yes," Crowley says, before he turns up the volume and bellows into the phone, "Because my kingdom is at bloody stake here! Your moron of a brother picked the lock and let Lucifer out! I am going to kill him! Your brother is a dead demon, Sam! Dead!"

Sam has taken a step back, then another, as if he is able to ward off Crowley's anger by stepping away from it. Sam keeps the phone at a safe distance. "Crowley, please?"

"No, Moose," Crowley snaps. "I'm busy. Toodles."

The phone is dead and the silence is loud. Sam sinks down on the bed, head in his hands. He is sure his heart has stopped. What's he supposed to do now? Castiel is running on fumes, or more like the remains of some other angel's grace. There is nobody left who plays in Lucifer's league, nobody. Michael, maybe; Sam would take him anytime, before the unpleasant alternative that includes apocalypses and bloodshed. Death, maybe, but the outcome of such a battle could be devastating for the universe. 

There is no one. If the demon in Dean wanted to point out that Sam is without power and company, he did a great job. Or not so great. A question of point of view.

Yeah, Sam is alone — alone and going to hell. Not literally, because the 'boyfriend' that Dean so kindly provided for him sure has no wish to get in close proximity of the cage, neighborhood included. Which means that it will take Lucifer a very short time to come to the conclusion that it would be a great idea to go look for his true vessel. Sam tries to keep his fear at bay by making a quick account of ways he'd like to kill Dean. He gets up, turns over his duffel on the bed, sorting through knives and books, knowing very well that none of them are going to work on Lucifer, not for anything but a distraction.

Angel blade, demon knife. A book of hexes and spells. The arsenal is sorely lacking.

Sam cannot go back to what he was in the cage. It was secret and dirty and everything Sam could never admit to anyone. If Dean knew... 

Sam gathers his weapons and his thoughts. If the demon in Dean knew what happened in the cage, how scared Sam had been of Michael, and how he came to love Lucifer, Dean would be so satisfied with himself. Awakening this kind of love, Sam's eternal and unrequited love? Yeah, Dean makes a great demon. Knowing how desperately Sam wants to be loved, he sure knows how to hit where it hurts the most. 

"I can't," Sam tells the carpet, staring at the stained, threadbare rug underneath his feet. He can't go back, he can't _love_ again, not the way he loved Lucifer. Sam pretends that his love is gone, because he killed it himself, conjuring up horrible, cruel memories of a time that never happened. He turned the cage into eternal torture, Lucifer's care and love into distortions.

Lucifer had been lover, protector, confidante, and Sam had been the only one who had denounced and tainted what they had. The hallucinations had been less scary than being in love with the Devil, with Satan. They made him forget.

Sam knows what he _should_ do: He needs to get his shit together and escape, cure Dean and plan with him to throw Lucifer back in the cage. Unless Satan had an epiphany, foregoing his disposal of mankind in favor of more pleasant pastimes, that is. Sam doesn't think so. Lucifer s love for him changes nothing, whether it is there or not.

Problem is: there is a vast discrepancy between what Sam _should_ do, and what he _wants_ to do.

*

But Sam doesn't get any time at all to plan or plot or escape. Before he gets up from the bed, leaving introspect brooding for later, it knocks on the door, hard, once. Then a second time, harder, the hinges rattling and the wood creaking.

No, probably not cleaning.

"Hold on!" Sam shouts, grabbing the angel blade, keeping it hidden behind his back as he opens the door. The first thing he sees is a blur of blood red. 

It's roses. Red roses. 

"Sam," Lucifer says, offering him the giant bouquet. There is a tinge of white frost at the tips of the petals. They're beautiful.

"You... brought me flowers?" It is not precisely what Sam had expected. It would have been more in the direction of brimstone and pitchforks, although Lucifer would probably never sink so low. He wouldn't need to, Sam knows only too well. . 

"I have been told that humans like them."

"You know everything. You know we do." Sam takes a step back, wary, caught between his long-suppressed need and the fear that Lucifer has risen to destroy the world.. "I should try to kill you."

"What kind of welcome is that?" Lucifer looks truly surprised.

"Who told you I'd welcome you?"

"The guy with the key to the cage. Your brother." 

"He's not my brother. He's a demon."

"Being a demon suits him, but it doesn't make him any brighter. He was convinced I'd run off to start the apocalypse when he let me out. He had a few things to say about what I should do to you when I was done wreaking havoc on Earth — things, mind, which I do not intend to actually do. Some of it was... appalling. Of course Dean had it in him; Alastair was very impressed with him, I've been told. With the Mark of Cain... Oh."

"So, did you come here to kill me?" Sam finds it suspicious that Lucifer is so calm.

"You want the flowers or not?" Lucifer asks. "It's either that, or I _will_ consider the apocalypse."

"Right." Sam can live with flowers and no apocalypse. "Anything else?"

"You could put that knife away. I am not here to hurt you, Sam. I never wanted to hurt you."

Sam gives up. He throws the blade and the demon knife on the bed. They land there with a sharp clatter. "Then why?"

Lucifer finally gets rid of the damned flowers. "Dean was very... talkative. The nice little demon inside him was dead set on me hurting you. I didn't like it. I never liked it. I assume you remember?"

Sam does. Michael's cruelty, Lucifer's protectiveness. All of it. "And?" Sam knows he should run screaming, sound the alarm, but he can't be bothered. He is tired, alone, and Lucifer is... dangerously safe. Safely dangerous. It is what Sam knows. 

"He told me it would please him to give you to someone who would never love you for you. He said we'd be the perfect match. He thought that I'd torment you into insanity." Lucifer walks across the room to the bed. "Do you trust me?"

"Not for a second."

Lucifer sits down. "Come sit with me, Sam."

Sam can't decide. There are all these things he should do because he's a hunter, and Satan is loose in the world again. It is beginning to sink in: Lucifer is here. All it takes is to reach out and touch him, and Sam can have... That's the problem. He can't have. He can't have the love that he so desperately need. 

"I had a... change of mind." Lucifer grabs Sam's hand and pulls him close. "Sit, please." Lucifer looks up with a soft smile, that almost childish look he uses when he's trying to coax Sam into giving him what he wants.

Sam sits. He can just as well. The mattress dips and pushes Sam closer to Lucifer. He smells of vaguely of ozone, of thunderstorms; of summer rain and early, sunny mornings. Warm. That's strange. Sam doesn't register that he has turned and put a hand on Lucifer's chest before he has actually done it. 

"I might have come to miss you." Lucifer brushes a lock of Sam's hair away from his face. "I don't want to start any apocalypses."

"You miss your vessel," Sam says, sighing as Lucifer's fingers flutter across his skin. "You can't have it."

"I miss _you_. My vessel... your body, is not... It's not..." Lucifer stops. Sam has to admit he looks adorably lost. Puppy-lost. It is a very, very disconcerting look on the Devil, Sam decides. "I know how to love, Sam."

"I'm not sure I understand." It's a lie. Sam understands. He thinks he begins to understand something that is so far above comprehension as anything can possibly be.

"Dean is a demon, but I think he's right about us." Lucifer moves closer. "We were made for each other."

"I know that." Sam doesn't turn his head when Lucifer leans in and kisses his cheek. "I listened to that crap for an eternity in the cage. _Dean is my vessel. Sam is my vessel. They were made for us_ , yada-yada. That was the only thing you and Michael could agree on." Michael's and Lucifer's fight would have been legendary, had they had more spectators. Most of them were to protect Sam from Michael's ire.

"Maybe you were made for me to learn... about love," Lucifer whispers, his lips moving over the shell Sam's ear. "I think Dean was right. I would like to try that with you. I don't want to be without you, Sam."

Sam sighs when Lucifer pulls him into his arms. There are so many things he should say, but _should_ have lost its meaning, erased from Sam's vocabulary by the soft touch of Lucifer's lips. Instead he smiles into the kiss, letting himself feel again. He slides his arms around Lucifer's waist, holding on to him. _Clingy_ , the demon in Dean had said. Good thing that Lucifer is possessive, then. "You don't have to," Sam says, "if you swear that you don't start the apocalypse. Or any other catastrophes."

"Promise. I'd never hurt my... boyfriend," he adds teasingly, the forked tip of his tongue playing along his lower lip, just as teasing. "So now that we ruined Dean's cunning plan, maybe we could get to the interesting sides of being lovers?" Lucifer suggests. "We can deal with demonic possession tomorrow. Dean will be so disappointed."

"Already trying to corrupt me?" Sam complains, with little seriousness behind it. For the first time since he was pulled from the cage, he is happy. Lucifer truly has changed, if love is more important to him than revenge. "We really are a match made in Hell."


End file.
